


Pattern Dance

by clarityhiding



Series: Conspiracies & Couriers [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Established Relationship, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarityhiding/pseuds/clarityhiding
Summary: Marrieds in space.





	Pattern Dance

**Author's Note:**

> The promised tiny sequel to The Conspiracies of Princes! Like... I have the vague idea I might write more random scenes from this AU in the future? But honestly, who knows. ~~I tried so hard to keep this short you don't even know.~~

Jason holds out for a whole two and half days before he breaks and gives in.

"That was nice," Tim says, climbing out of Jason's lap and straightening his uniform jacket before he starts looking for his pants.

"I think they ended up shoved under the console. Or in a locker," Jason offers as he tucks himself back into his own pants. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this. I'm never going to be able to take a hail from the moms in here again."

" _I_ can't believe you've never had sex in the captain's chair of a ship before," Tim counters, getting on his hands and knees to try and pull his pants free of where they ended up wedged.

"In the captain's chair of _my_ ship," Jason corrects, leaning back in his seat to admire the view.

"If you're going to look constipated every time I mention Kon, _you_ don't get to talk about whatever exploits you got up to with Artemis on the _Tabazin_ ," Tim grumbles, wriggling out from under the console.

"I do not look constipated." At least, Jason is fairly certain he doesn't. Not anymore. "And it was on the _Red Arrow_ with Roy, actually."

Tim pauses in the middle of shimmying into his pants. "I thought you said your marriage to Roy was platonic."

"Platonic sex is definitely a thing, Tim. Haven't you ever heard of fuck buddies?" Jason says, because he just can't help but open his big mouth and dig himself deeper. Tim's scowl darkens and Jason belatedly remembers the whole fire-breathing thing. "Not that I'd do that anymore, of course. Marriage vows are serious business."

Huffing a laugh, Tim flops into the copilot's seat and sets it spinning. "I don't care if you get up to stuff with your buddies," he says magnanimously. "You just can't do it without me."

"Kinky."

"You're the one who married me. So, can you tell me yet where we're headed or is still a great big mystery?"

"I told you, it's just a mail run."

"Uh huh. Because we're just mailmen."

Jason sighs. "Firstly, you're basically a cadet—one who finished at the college early, to boot—so no high intrigue for you. Secondly, this is my first time out since getting myself killed like an idiot, _again_. No way is Dick giving us anything dangerous anytime soon."

Tim grabs the edge of the console, stopping his spin. "That whole thing with Darla wasn't your fault."

"Kinda was. If I'd listened to you and put the shields up sooner—"

" _No_. You didn't have all the information you needed to properly assess the situation because I was being stupid and didn't want you to think I couldn't take care of my own damned problems," Tim snaps, all his earlier post-coital languidness gone.

"It wasn't your fault either. You were the victim."

"I know. It was Darla's fault. Darla and her dad and Ra's al Ghul. Not yours, not mine, not anyone's fault but theirs."

"Tim, part of this job is staying on your toes and being aware of all the variables," Jason reminds him, easily slipping into teacher-mode. "I should have checked you out and reported you as soon as I found you aboard _Redwing_. I didn't and it bit me in the ass."

Tim glares, his jaw tight in a way that Jason now recognizes as him trying hard to keep all his fire inside. "For a genius, you're really stupid sometimes," he says through clenched teeth, leaping to his feet and stomping out of the cockpit.

"For the record, I was really worried about you too," Jason calls after him, but the door is already closing and he can't be sure Tim even hears.

Jason sits there, staring off into space for several long minutes. Finally, he opens the comm and keys in a code.

 _"Hey, kiddo. Didn't expect to hear from you so soon,"_ Dick says, smiling sleepily on the screen. Shit, Jason forgot it was almost midnight on Themyscira. Oh well, the damage is already done.

"Out of curiosity, what do you do to get back in Babs's good graces after you pull some dumbass stunt?"

_"Ooo, trouble in paradise?"_

"Just answer the fucking question, Dickface."

_"Well…"_

 

* * *

 

When Jason finally finishes with Dick, he has _Redwing_ 's computer track down Tim, though he already has a suspicion as to where he'll be. His suspicion is proved correct, and Tim is completely immersed in his staff work when Jason reaches the special cargo hold. Tim's movements are definitely smoother than they were when Jason last found him here, nearly a year ago. No doubt the result of Donna's skilled and guiding influence.

Since Jason was fairly certain why Tim would be lingering in the currently-empty padded hold, he made sure to stop by the armory for his own staff on the way here. Normally, Jason favors ranged weapons, but Dick said letting Babs beat his ass in her manner of choice always has a positive effect. Babs hasn't kicked Dick to curb yet, so there's a possibility the guy might actually know what he's talking about.

Peeling off his jacket and tossing it aside, Jason moves to intercept Tim's staff with his own. Tim looks thrown for a moment but is quick to counter, and it isn't long before they've fallen into a familiar pattern that Jason recognizes from his first extended stay on Themyscira. 

It's less a spar and more something halfway between meditation and dance. Tim is an excellent partner, the best Jason's had after Donna. He forgets his anxiousness, his worry, and his anger as his mind and body become fully focused on the flow of the movements. It's why Donna taught him this in the first place—Jason woke up with so much anger after his first death and traditional meditation hadn't worked at all. Considering what happens when Tim loses his cool, it's not surprising she chose to teach it to him as well.

They finish with their staffs interlocked, so close there's barely any space between them. Jason is reminded why he had to stop practicing with Donna, back when he was still a boiling cauldron of teenage hormones. He gulps, tries to push that from his mind for now.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful in the future," he says softly, reaching to brush an errant lock of hair from Tim's face.

"I'm sorry also. I know you came out fine, but Darla _killed_ you and then I flamed and flamed and I think I was still going when the Green Lantern working Academy Security pulled me off her. It was—I was really scared."

Ugh, that's another one Jason owes Rayner, the little snot. "You killed someone. That's pretty big, Tim."

"Technically, she was already dead." Tim drops his staff and moves Jason's aside so he can step closer and lean into him. "We probably should've talked about this months ago."

Jason laughs, wrapping an arm around him. "Probably. Kinda hard to do when we had Donna and Dick both breathing down our necks, making sure we kept it all clean and above board, though. Not exactly conducive to heart-to-hearts having your COs monitoring your every move."

"Well, to be fair, it was probably a good thing they did. I mean, you really know how to handle a staff."

The tips of Jason's ears go red, and he pulls back slightly to look at Tim. "Really? Again? You're insatiable, Drake."

"Hey," Tim says, pushing up on his toes so his lips brush against Jason's, "I just spent six months watching you strut around at the front of the classroom and not being allowed to touch."

"Don't make it like you're the only one who suffered. I couldn't touch you either."

"Not even close to the same at all. I mean, have you _seen_ your thighs?" Tim huffs. "They're practically pornographic."

"My thighs? What about your—your everything!"

"Shh," Tim murmurs, pulling him down. "No more talking."

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a tumblr!](http://themandylion.tumblr.com/) Come visit if you want ridiculous AU headcanons, rants about the English language (and/or educational publishing), plague fangirling, adorable baby bats, and veeeeery occasional fanart.


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